The ascent of summer's sanguine syllables.
Groovy green mango scent hitting schoolgirl nostrils.
Pickle jars, starched saris making the most of a raging sun.
Talking with cats, checking on the delicate tendrils of
potted plants, waving to kites blazing the afternoon sky.
The day's gossips, jokes, grudges, unwrapped in fading
sunlight. Life's drama rehearsing itself in twilight silhouettes.
Layers of heat trapped in the body, the air, the airwaves,
released to the microgravity of a night sky.
The terrace, a cross-border confidant,
conduit between worlds,
mystery enabler.
A lovely Summer poem, Bhaswati. I can relate to all of those warm and endearing images and activities. The "microgravity of a night sky" is beautiful. Here, in Chennai we also add the sea breeze to the mystery enabling. :-)
ReplyDeleteAh, of course, Geethanjali. Here in arid Delhi, we don't get that extra magic the Chennai shoreline brings you. Thank you so much for reading. :-)
Delete"Pickle jars, starched saris making the most of a raging sun" my favourite image from this rich poem
ReplyDeletesuch a beauty!
Thank you, Charu. An ode to the terrace, a dear friend in my childhood and youth. :-)
Delete